


On the Ethic of Gilgamesh

by 4376111



Category: Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Drabbles, Gen, Mentions of Death, Sort Of, Spot The Reference, and the clap of my ass keeps pulling the trigger and committing a felony, eldritch au, hnnng I’m trying to forget about a traumatic event but I’m dummy thicc, it's fanlore what do you expect, second chapter:, the ocean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27378184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4376111/pseuds/4376111
Summary: "Life is temporary but the homunculi we make in our own image are forever"Unus Annus and Markiplierverse inspired drabbles1: AnnusThe call of the void2: WarfstacheTime is a funny thing(see first chapter notes for disclaimer about real person fiction)
Relationships: Unus & Annus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. The Call Of The Void

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The bottomless emptiness, the unknowable Depths, the crushing pressure, the alien life and the dark- the dept- they’re coming. I can hear their drums in the deep. They’re coming. They’re coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:  
> I wasn’t gonna post these because fanfic about real people can be a morally-iffy area, but since it’s not inherently ship-related and they both seem to be fine with (or elsewise encourage) character or lore-related fan theories & works, I figured I’d go for it and delete it later if that changes. If either of them make a statement against these sorts of works, (or if they already have and I haven’t seen it, in which case feel free to tell me), I will remove it. My own personal beliefs designate this as an important matter of consent, and I am in no way attempting to push these beliefs on anyone else. anyways thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! :D

The ocean is terrifying. 

It’s not the fish, or the water, or the pressure that does it. Well, mostly at least.

The worst part is the drums beating rhythmically in his chest and that familiar magnetic pull. The way it whispers spiralling nothings in his ears like a seashell. In and out with the tides, he breathes steadily.

  
  
  


They both have some things that carry over.

Some things that filter through the coffin, creaking the oiled hinges in a way that doesn’t quite make sense.

He hasn’t asked Unus about it, hasn’t brought it up or mentioned it. Hasn’t taken the time to contemplate it aloud.

But still he knows.

  
  
  


Unus thrives in the deep. 

The Gongoozler’s call echoes for miles under the waves and Unus would dive in without a care.

Like a mermer to water, the ocean is his friend and he takes full advantage of that. Playful like breaking waves. A cool blast of water overpowering the stagnant grime of day-to-day life.

Annus is more driven, when the layers of contemplation are stripped away. He is primal and single minded and the ocean’s pull feels far too much like a threat. It thrums with a challenge and he is not so much afraid of unknowing, but rather of knowing and still surrendering to those murky depths.

  
  
  


Sometimes he glances over at Unus out of the corner of his eye and there are things about him that aren’t- he’d say normal or right, but well, he himself is not quite there either. He could have extra limbs, teeth, feathers; it wouldn’t-won’t matter. They’re stuck as a pair forever, (for a year). Besides, there are probably plenty of things about him that Unus doesn’t mention.

It is how it is.

  
  
  


All Annus can do is trust that when the clock runs out and he finally turns out towards that endless depth, his corpse’ll burn from the flaming arrow long before he can reach the bottom, or the things that cry out from down in those deep, dark depths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by the various swimming vids, the assortment of crypids, the hydro-dipping video dynamic, and that one thing Mark said about drums in A Totally Normal Nail Salon
> 
> bonus, nov. 13
> 
> Annus, grabbing his grandpa walker: aight imma head out


	2. Time is a Funny Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Life is temporary but the homunculi we make in our own image are forever”

The most interesting part about being Wilford Warfstache, is that before breakfast, everyone is a stranger. Every new day is a puzzle, until he pieces everything together like a morning after or a particularly complicated murder case. The thrill of a hunt long forgotten is sweet upon his morning-fuzzied teeth.

The point is not what Wil remembers, because sometimes he does remember an awful lot. The point is what he understands.

Sometimes he’ll look at the way Dark’s fingers curl around the handle of a coffee mug and his brain will scream Damien’, or at a grin, ‘Celine’.

Sometimes it seems like he is constantly dueling against the rusty switchblade of this reality. Artfully stabbing, it ages him a hundred years and throws him back again, hacking away at the stickiness of his bubblegum haze. It floods him, a barrage of emotions he doesn’t understand and faces he doesn’t recognize.

On the worst days, his composure falls into so many ribbons of lace and he is torn apart once again. Nothing more than a shadow of a man who died long ago, shaking in his suspenders at the unfamiliarity of it all.

Most times his walls slam back into place quickly, sending him reeling and he lets himself forget before Dark even realizes anything was wrong. Some days they don't, but he never knows if those are real anyways.

The silver lining is that it's hilarious. Anything’s a joke if it's funny, and to Wilford, everything is.

For most people, it's impossible to remember things that haven't happened yet. For Wil, it's all a bit tangled up. Like the time he put his suspenders in his lingerie drawer and gave it a spin for good measure. Maybe end up stuck spending a good few hours trying to untangle the whole mess, but really it’s not like he’s making up for lost time.

Morning comes again and he has once more forgotten to act as if there is such a thing as the impossible to begin with.

He wakes up in a motel in the seventies. Be it temperature, cost in dollars, years, he doesn't care; it's all the same in the end. Just like waking up to memories of gunshots in a war he never went to. Really, of all the memories for William to choose from, it's a shame that his unconscious subconscious always goes for the drab ones.

Drab like olive corduroy and an offensive lack of fishnet. Well, luckily it stays drab no longer as he has a particular talent when it comes to fixing such things. He’s always been the life of the party after all. 

As screams ring out once more, Wilford channels a strong strain of obliviousness and fails to notice that he’ll apparently be the death of it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually written right after ‘Wilford Motherloving Warfstache’ came out because the acting in that was so good I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Pretty sure this was originally gonna include Abe but it never got written and I can’t rememver what was supposed to happen. Fixed it up a little bit and posted it anyways lol


End file.
